


happy golden days

by brahe



Series: brahe's 2017 advent bingo [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dog - Freeform, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Shore Leave, Snow, Snow Angels, ac2017, adventchallenge, holiday fluff, home for the holidays, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: Bones brings Jim home to Georgia for Christmas.





	happy golden days

**Author's Note:**

> i've thought about doing an advent challenge for a long time, so this year i decided to go for it!! i'm super excited to share these fics with you, the prompts are pretty great and coming up with ideas for them has been super fun.  
> this year's challenge is a bingo card. this fic fills the space for "going home"  
> challenge page @ adventchallenge on livejournal
> 
> also, my goal is to take titles from christmas songs, so today it's have yourself a merry little christmas

It’s warmer in Georgia than it usually was in Iowa by this time of year, the grasslands of Riverside typically frosty and chilled through by now, while it’s hardly freezing in Marietta.

Eleanora McCoy's house is a wide craftsman, wraparound porch and dark wood set against a few acres of green grass and tall trees.  

There had been snowfall overnight, just enough to cover the ground and maybe provide enough material for snowmen, and Joanna had begged since waking to go play outside until Bones conceded to taking her for a walk. 

Jim looks at Bones, who’s bundled under a jacket, scarf, and hat, and at least two shirts, Jim’s sure. The tip of his nose has turned red, and his cheeks are a flushed pink, but the frown lines Jim’s so used to seeing are gone, replaced by a soft smile he’s half convinced Bones doesn’t even know is on his face. Joanna has run ahead of them, Bones’s mom’s labrador bounding along with her until they crash into a field covered in hardly two inches of snow.

“This is a good look for you,” Jim says, looking forward again and shoving his hands in his pockets. He’s just fine with a long-sleeve sweater, but his fingers are starting to get chilly.

“What, freezing my ass off?” Bones huffs, but the scowl he’s going for looks more like a smile. 

“Family,” Jim says. Bones makes an exasperated noise and slings an arm around Jim, drags him closer until they’re pressed against each other.

“Daddy!” Joanna yells, still sitting in the snow as Athena runs around circles. “Come look at my snow angel!”

They’re in the field a moment later, and sure enough, there’s a slightly sloppy looking snow angel on the ground behind Joanna. She’s beaming up at them, and she looks so much like Bones in this moment, curly brown hair and button nose bright red.

“Looks great, darlin',” Bones tells her, and Jim crouches down next to her.

“Can I make one too?” he asks, and she quickly agrees, telling him just how to move his arms so the wings look right. The cold seeps into his jeans, chills his back, and he remembers one year when he was a little younger than Joanna, making patterns with Sam in the snow that always covered the yard outside their house. They would always say out until they couldn’t feel their fingers or toes, and Mom would have cups of hot chocolate filled with marshmallows waiting for them when they came back inside, laughing and freezing.

And then Frank happened, but he drags his mind away from that, focuses on the way Joanna’s giggling as she tosses sticks for Athena, the dog’s fur covered in snowflakes.

Bones is looking down at him, something calculating in his features, and Jim shakes his head, offering him a smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, before Bones can ask, and when he raises an eyebrow, Jim chuckles. “Really. I promise.”

“If you say so,” Bones says, unconvinced, but he drops it for now. Joanna comes barreling towards Jim, then, crashing into his side and knocking him over into the snow as she lands on top of him with a grin.

“Can you help me build a snowman, Uncle Jim?” she asks. Jim looks up to Bones for a moment, who’s got that soft look on his face again, tucks his hands under Joanna’s arms to hold her up over him. She’s covered in snow, jeans damp, socks and mittens no doubt chilly and wet.

“How about we head back to grandma’s,” he says, “and I’ll make up some hot chocolate and we’ll put on some dry clothes and get warm before we come back out for snowman building.”

Joanna nods. “Can I have marshmallows in mine?” she asks, looking hopeful, and when Jim tells her _of course_ , she’s rolling off him and running towards Bones, grabbing onto his legs, and he smiles at her while she tells him about how _Uncle Jim_ ’s gonna make her a hot chocolate with lots and lots of marshmallows.

Bones looks over to Jim, who’s pushed himself to sitting, arms across his knees. He wants to say something about how it was a Kirk family tradition, hot chocolate after a few hours in the snow, but it didn’t last long to be considered anything as such, so he just shrugs. 

“My mom made some for me and Sam a few times,” he says, and, really, it’s Bones, so it’s all he needs to say.

“Go find Athena,” Bones tells Joanna. “Make sure she’s not too covered in snow.” Joanna readily agrees and she runs across the field, fastening the leash on the lab again.

Bones looks back to Jim again. “Well?”

“Well what?” Jim says, then, “Help me up?” and holds out his hand for Bones, who takes it with a roll of his eyes and hoists Jim up. Jim keeps his grip on Bones’s hand, tugs him closer once he’s standing, and threads his arms around Bones’s back.

“I’m good,” Jim says, quiet, and kisses him, chaste and sweet. Bones has his hands on Jim’s waist, thumbs rubbing back and forth, and he pushes Jim away, scrunching up his nose.

“Your nose is freezing,” he says, and Jim laughs, kisses him again, manages to slip his hands under the eight layers Bones is wearing, which makes him jump and yelp.

“Get your cold hands off me, you ingrate,” he says, still mostly laughing, and Jim wiggles his hands back out from under Bones’s jacket.

Joanna’s back with Athena by then, and as she leads the way back to the house, Bones slips his fingers between Jim’s, squeezes gently.

 

 

“I was startin’ to worry about y’all,” Eleanora tells them as they walk back into the house. It’s warm inside, smells like cookies and spice, and they follow her into the kitchen. “I’ve just got a batch in the oven,” she says.

“Smells delicious,” Bones says, bending down to press a kiss to his mother’s cheek before bundling Joanna up the stairs.

“Dry clothes for you, missy,” says, and there’s the sounds of footsteps on the stairs as they race to Joanna’s room. Jim stands in the kitchen for a moment, halfway to awkward before Eleanora pushes him towards the stairs.

“You look like you need a change, too,” she says, and Jim smiles as the damp socks on his feet before ascending the stairs much more slowly than Bones and Joanna had.

Fresh jeans and a new sweater later, he leans against the doorway to Joanna’s room, watches as Bones helps Joanna wiggle out of her damp jeans and shirt. She runs into the closet to find a sweater, and Bones stands. He’s changed his jeans as well, but his shirt had stayed dry under the jacket he wore. He smiles at Jim before Joanna reappears, bright red sweater pulled over her head with _santa’s favorite_  proclaimed in big white letters.

She spots Jim, runs at him, and he picks her up, settles her on his hip. “Time for hot chocolate?” he asks.

“Yes!” she says, and they head down the stairs, where Eleanora is pulling the cookies out of the oven. Joanna wiggles a little and Jim sets her down, watching as she runs over to her grandmother.

“Uncle Jim’s gonna make hot chocolate,” she says, “where’s the cocoa mix?”

Eleanora shoos her away from the open oven door. “In the pantry, third to top shelf. You’ll have to have one of the boys grab it for you.”

Joanna turns, sets big brown eyes on Bones, says, “Daddy, please?” and then Bones is pulling a box of cocoa powder off the shelf and handing it to Joanna, who brings it to the island in the middle of the kitchen and looks expectantly at Jim.

“We need milk and a pot,” he says, pushing his sleeves halfway up his forearms as he turns one of the stovetop burners on. Eleanora hands him a pot, and Joanna fetches the milk from the fridge, setting it on the counter by Jim.

“Perfect,” he says, pouring a few cups into the pot.

“If you get a glass, you can dip your cookies, too,” Eleanora tells Joanna, who’s quick to grab a glass from the counter and watches Eleanora pour her a little, and offers up a cookie from the fresh batch.

“You too, Leonard,” Eleanora says, looking over at her son, who’d been propped up against the doorframe leading to the kitchen, watching them. Jim looks up, too, offers him a smile, and Bones settles against the countertop next to Jim, cookie in one hand, glass of milk in the other.

“Looks delicious,” Jim says, and before Bones has time to react, he leans over and takes a bite. Bones sputters, holds his cookie away from Jim and scowls at him. Jim only grins, going back to stirring the milk.

“Ridiculous,” Bones huffs, watching Jim mix the cocoa powder in as he dunks his cookie and takes a bite. It _is_  delicious, soft and warm, the chocolate chips still melty.

“Hot chocolate’s done,” Jim says, then, and Joanna cheers, puts her mug on the counter next to the stove and waits as Jim fills it. Eleanora’s got a bag of marshmallows, and she hands it to Joanna, who dumps a good three handfuls into her cup.

Jim fills three more mugs, puts as many marshmallows as Joanna in his own as Bones watches and rolls his eyes. Jim holds his cup in both hands, enjoys the way the warmth seeps into his palms, and leans against the counter beside Bones, watches Eleanora and Joanna chat about the snow outside.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Jim says, quiet, and Bones meets his gaze for a moment before he knocks their shoulders together gently.

“Thanks for coming,” he replies, and Jim lets the feelings of warmth and happiness, of holiday spirit, of _family_ , wash over him. 

 

 


End file.
